


I'm All Out of Lies

by evelinaonline



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Body Dysmorphia, Family Bonding, Gen, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Luther Hargreeves, No Incest, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 06:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelinaonline/pseuds/evelinaonline
Summary: The more he grew up, the more Ben felt like a stranger in his own body.





	I'm All Out of Lies

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write a one-shot about Ben's relationship with his body for a long time now, and this only scratched the surface of my thoughts. This mostly deals with the way Ben's body changed during puberty, so he's around 13-15 in the one-shot.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

Ben was changing.

_Changing _was one word for it. Ben would rather describe it as torture.

Mom had talked to all seven of them about puberty long before they hit it, yet no matter his education on said subject, Ben hadn't been prepared. Hair growth, sweat, _hormones… _Somehow, all these changes made him feel even more like a stranger in his own body. Because even though puberty sucked, the feeling wasn't unfamiliar to Ben. No, Ben had always felt as if his body didn't belong to him.

And the horror didn't seem to like the changes either.

Ben could handle breaking an extra sweat, but the tentacles in his stomach? They weren't fond of the experience. It was as if their vessel of destruction was changing its mechanisms, growing stronger, more independent. If the horror didn't hate Ben before, it certainly did now.

Despite all the stress this _transformation _was causing, his siblings didn't seem to share that concern of Ben's. Hell, even when they were eight, Ben had caught Diego—who had supposedly hit his growth spurt, but Ben called bullshit—telling Klaus that licking a battery would give him pubes. Klaus had actually done it and Ben just couldn't understand why he would want a change like that.

Then again, Klaus… was Klaus. Ben never really understood him. He could even go as far as to say he was kind of afraid _for _him. He was always elsewhere, apparently somewhere better, but also disconnected from everything else. And maybe that was a good thing.

Of course, Ben wasn't going to encourage Klaus' alcohol addiction. Not that Klaus would listen anyway. Not even Diego, his best friend, or so Ben supposed, could get Klaus to set loose a bit. At least the two of them had each other through everything. Who could Ben even talk to about what was happening to him?

Truth was, Ben didn't want to talk at _all._ Ironically enough, he was the first to hit his growth spurt. The process was slow, painfully slow, so no one caught up on it.

According to some unspoken rule, Luther was the one out of his brothers that started _becoming a man_ first. It all seemed to happen so quickly, and in such a way that he was proud of it.

And Ben hated it.

He wanted to embrace his changes too. He wanted to look at himself in the mirror and be proud of what he was seeing, but the boy reflected on the glass was small, _funny._ Instead of muscles, he had stretch marks from all the times his stomach had been ripped apart by the horror. Instead of facial hair, he had the smoothest cheeks in the house—he didn't even have acne like everyone else—and he hated how much he wanted to have something he despised.

All Ben wanted was for everything to stop, but somehow the universe always found a way to mock him. He didn't want all the changes, but he needed them. Not to grow, not to _become a man_ like Luther, but to gain some sort of dominance in the academy.

It was always about pure and innocent Ben. Truthfully, he wished that he could be like that, but he wasn't. He was more than just the person behind the books, more than _The Horror_, and he wanted people to acknowledge that.

But Ben wasn't going to speak. Not with _this_ voice.

Yes, Luther gained muscles. And yes, he gained height. And yes, he became hairy. But he still spoke with that high-pitched voice, one that didn't match his body at all. It was funny, at first. But the more it went on, the more Ben realised Luther was going through the same thing as him.

Even though Ben's face was the definition of a _baby face,_ his voice had dropped what seemed like a hundred octaves, and that had to be his least favourite part about puberty. Not the changing itself, but more like everything happening in a random order and the whole _good-luck-looking-cool _type of thing.

Ben was so ashamed of his voice. He avoided speaking in long sentences, even to Vanya, though he supposed she hadn't been that talkative ever since Five left either. At least it stopped cracking, _god._ It was so embarrassing when it cracked.

Still, Ben couldn't help but feel as if his voice simply didn't belong to him. If only he could wake up in a different body that seemed manly enough for his new voice—preferably without the horror either—everything would be fine.

Of course, it wasn't that simple. It never was, not in the academy.

Ben sighed, eyes locked on his reflection on the bathroom's mirror. He was studying himself again. Making a mental note of all the changes, as if that would help in any way. He had just finished showering, and had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. It wasn't as if he was in the mood for checking what was going on down _there_.

He put a hand on his stomach, following his stretch marks with his fingers. Even though the horror didn't technically live _in _his stomach, it always felt as if it was there. Who even thought it was a good idea to make a portal inside his body? His existence must have been a joke.

He hated them so much. The stretch marks, the horror, everything. He hated them.

He bit his lip as a tear rolled down his cheek—his perfectly smooth cheek—and looked back into his own eyes again. That gaze definitely didn't belong to a warrior. He hated it too. All he wanted was—

The door creaked open, and Ben flinched so hard he almost tripped.

It was Luther—of course it was Luther—in nothing but his boxers, who had obviously been waiting to take a shower of his own, because god forbid if Dad let them shower somewhere other than their designated bathroom. _Shit,_ for how long had Ben been staring at himself?

No one spoke for a few full seconds. It was as if both of them were trying to wrap their mind around what happened.

"Shit, uh," Luther cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry, Ben, I didn't know you were in here."

Ben shook his head, clearing it of thoughts. He mimicked Luther, clearing his throat before speaking. "N-No worries."

He didn't spend a second more than he had to looking at his brother. Ben turned to the counter, frantically putting all the bottles of shampoo and deodorant and anything else he had tried to experiment with at place. He was sure half of these must have been Diego's, and was suddenly really grateful he and Luther didn't get along all that well. Ben really didn't want to have to explain to Diego what he was doing with his things.

Ben did everything he could to avoid looking at Luther, but the mirror in front of him wasn't helping. The worst part was that he didn't even have to look to know that his brother was staring at him. He could feel his piercing gaze on his back, he could hear the silent judgment.

He took everything he'd said about Diego back. He really wished he had been the one to find him, no matter the scolding.

"There you go," Ben said, putting the last bottle in place. "I'm just gonna grab my clothes and-"

"Since when did your voice get so deep?"

For a moment, Ben froze in his place. This was the exact type of question he'd wanted to avoid. This was why Ben never spoke up anymore, and why he spent his free time away from the others, and most certainly why he hated puberty.

By some sort of miracle, he managed to keep it together. The last thing he wanted was to panic in front of Luther—no one wanted another reason to be looked down upon, especially not from their superhero team leader—so he merely shrugged, reaching for his uniform next to the sink.

It was ridiculous how vulnerable he felt in front of Luther. His brother was tall and muscular. Ben was short and his body looked drained from all the times he had to summon the horror. Luther was fierce and confident. Ben was cowardly and scared.

He felt all kinds of wrong and didn't know how to stop it.

"It's cool," Luther said. "The, uh, voice."

"Oh." Ben pulled his clothes closer to his body, hiding his stomach with his jacket. "Thanks, I guess."

Luther nodded. _Damn him and his lack of blabbery,_ Ben thought. He knew he was supposed to get out of the bathroom, he _wanted _to get out of there, in fact he wanted it so badly he would have sprinted out, but there was something still gripping onto him.

"Are you okay?"

Ben nodded, squinting his eyes a bit to prevent a tear from forming. "I'm fine," he said, and his voice cracked, because of course it cracked right there and then, in front of Luther. Ben suddenly a lot smaller, and he couldn't move.

"Ben—"

"It's fine, I'm _fine."_ Voice crack. "Just leave me _alone—"_ Crack again.

And then the tears started flowing.

He walked past Luther and out of the bathroom, and it was only when he hit the stairs for the top floor that he went faster, practically slamming the door to his room closed when he arrived. He was suddenly grateful that his room was the only one up there—aside from Five's, but he was no longer there—so that no one could hear him.

Ben changed into a clean set of pyjamas, throwing the towel next to his closet without caring that it'd damp the carpet. He sat on his bed, legs pulled up to the bed-frame's edge, arms leaning on his knees, and head leaning on his arms as he looked down towards the floor.

He finally allowed his tears to run down his cheeks, and Ben's eyes became fixed on the teardrop stains on the carpet. It was like there was nowhere else he could look at. He needed something to remind him of his failure, the same way everyone else in this house looked down on him.

Ben hated that he was so dependent on this house, when all he wanted was to run away and never look back. He hated how tight the walls felt, how, if he focused enough, he could hear footsteps from outside his door. He hated his _body,_ for being a constant reminder of the monster he was, for being a prison, for mocking his every move, for looking the way it looked, for accepting more and more scars every time he used his powers, for changing even though he didn't want it to, for defining him, for being him, for _not giving up already—_

Ben gasped when he heard a knock at the door. His legs fell on the ground with a thump, his head shot up, and his gaze got locked on the door, waiting for an indication as for who it was.

"Ben?"

Ben let go of a quiet whimper.

"It's, uh, it's Luther."

He covered his mouth with his hands, hoping Luther wouldn't hear him through the door. At this point he would have preferred Dad storming in the room to tell him off, because quite frankly, Dad didn't _care _if Ben cried.

But Luther? His brother? He wasn't going to let go of it so easily.

"I just wanted to check up on you, 'cause you seemed a bit upset. I'm sorry if I said anything wrong, okay?"

Ben could barely focus on his voice, but he could tell it was a whisper. It was way past curfew, which meant he would get in a lot of trouble if he got caught.

"So, uh, yeah. If you need me, I—"

Maybe that was why Ben opened the door.

He clumsily pulled Luther in and shut the door again, leaning against it. It took a while for his gaze to meet Luther's, but when it did, his lip started trembling again.

"Hey—" Luther took a step closer to him, but Ben flinched away, putting one hand between them. Luther put his hands up as well, as to show him he wasn't going to hurt him. Why did Ben feel like he was?

"You shouldn't be here," Ben managed to say. "If Mom, Pogo or Dad come in they—"

"They won't," Luther said, slowly lowering his hands. "Let me worry about that." Ben nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "That's it. That's it, breathe."

So Ben did just that.

It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to speak, but Luther was guiding him through it. _In and out, in and out._ Ben's body was still trembling, but at least he was aware of what was happening now.

"It wasn't—" Ben choked on his words. "It's not your fault."

Luther nodded, and he seemed a bit relieved. "Then what's wrong?"

Ben opened his mouth to speak again, without knowing what to say. Everything was wrong, _he _was wrong. Before he knew it, he was crying again, and his breath was too heavy to carry.

This time he let Luther hold him. It was awkward at first, his brother's arms leaning on his body instead of hugging it, but Ben clinged to him after a while, face buried in his chest. At this point he didn't even care that Luther was hearing him cry, as long as he wasn't looking at him.

Luther's arm wrapped around Ben's waist, and the other stroked his hair caringly. They must have looked ridiculous, but Ben couldn't afford to care. He just needed a distraction, whatever that was.

He let go of a half-assed chuckle, without really knowing why.

"What's so funny?" Luther asked, and Ben could hear a smile in his voice.

"Just about everything," Ben mumbled, huffing a bit. "I think I want to sit down."

Luther pulled away at that, and they both sat down on Ben's bed, next to each other. There was another moment of silence, but for some reason, Ben didn't feel as vulnerable.

"We don't need to talk about it," Luther said. "But are you okay?

The was a moment in which Ben considered telling Luther everything. About how lonely the room next to the attic was, about how much he missed Five, how Vanya wouldn't talk to him, about how he wanted to leave this place, how he didn't want to see anyone's face again, how he couldn't stand himself—

But he didn't.

Instead, Ben nodded, giving Luther a forced smile. "It's just been a long day."

_It's been going on forever._

Luther nodded too. "We all have our bad days, it's okay."

"I know," Ben said. "Sorry for worrying you."

_Sorry for lying to you._

"It's alright. I'm just glad you're okay."

Luther patted his back, and suddenly it didn't feel as comforting. Tomorrow, they'd pretend this conversation never happened. Tomorrow, Luther would ask Ben to release the horror, and add more and more faces to his nightmares. Tomorrow, Ben would lock the door before starting to count his stretch marks in front of the mirror.

Today, Ben smiled.

"Me too."

His voice cracked again.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise in advance for any emotional damage I might have caused. I love you all, please don't hurt me.
> 
> Ben's relationship with Luther when they were little is complicated. In the comics, it's said that Ben looked up to him, and that Luther blames himself for his death. I imagine something similar to be the case in the show, with a few adjustments—I'm definitely gonna write more of Ben's relationship with his siblings in the future!
> 
> If you liked this, make sure to [check out my tumblr (@evelinaonline)](https://evelinaonline.tumblr.com/)! I'm currently taking requests <3
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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